When the Sands Stopped
by Elandili
Summary: Post SoT. How could the prince and Farah ever be together if she didn't remember him? This is my version of what might have brought them back to eachother.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the "Prince of Persia" Franchise.

Author's Note: I will try to avoid giving names to people and places that were not given names during "The Sands of Time" including the prince and his home city. I haven't played "Warrior Within" or "Two Thrones" so neither of them will be in my story.

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/I found myself thinking of her again; her dark eyes, her gentle smile, her fierce spirit…the love we shared before…before she died./

A sharp pain lodged itself in his throat at the memory.

/ I CANNOT…will not allow myself to dwell on what never happened. Because it didn't happen! Not in this timeline at least. She is alive and safe, if I have anything to say about it she will remain that way. /

/I will protect her…if it costs me everything I own…my royal title…my very life! Yes, I will protect her even if I have to die to do it…if she would let me near enough that is. /

/I don't know what is more painful…the memory of her death or the fact that she has no knowledge of me, now that the cataclysm that I unleashed is reversed. /

/To her, I am the enemy, and so she would want nothing to do with me. She doesn't remember me…she accused me of _lying_ when I tried to remind her with my story. /

/I will never have her back; there is no way to prove my story. If I begged on my knees she would never give me a chance to gain her love again. And yet I cannot forget her. Farah, the princess of a nation that his father was set on defeating; the only girl that had ever captured his heart. /

Just then, the prince was pulled from his reverie by the sound of his name being called. He glanced around the table at which he was sitting, to the advisers in order to find who was addressing him. It was his father, King Sharaman.

"Sorry father, could you repeat the question?" He said quickly hoping his father wouldn't be too upset about his lack of concentration.

"I asked 'would you be terribly upset if we began making plans to attack India?' Since you've been so against it lately I thought I'd ask." The king stated, sarcasm dripping off of every word.

"Yes, father, I would be upset. Do you think I would change my opinion so quickly after holding it so long? Did I not give you the very same answer yesterday?" This was said without a hint of the infamous family sarcasm. Unlike his father, the prince wanted peace with India; though, like his father, it was personal and selfish reasons that inspired him.

"Son, I try to understand you, but I cannot. You have been so distant since we passed through Azad two years ago. We were so close before that, I wish you would talk to me." Sharaman loved his son very much, more than the wealth of India. For the love of his son, he held off conquering the nation that, in his own words, was 'ripe for the taking'.

"Your Highness, we are finished our business here…and you seem to need time alone with your son. Perhaps we should go, but only if you give us leave to do so." One of the older, wiser advisers said; reminding the two members of the royal family that there was a room of people being held hostage by their conversation.

Sharaman turned to the older man and said "Very well, you may go…" The man got up to leave and the other men followed him slowly, unsure if the leave the king had given was for them as well. "You may all go, even you son…" At this, the prince rose from his seat and began to exit the room. "…We will discuss this later." Sharaman finished as his boy walked by him.

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The prince was glad to be out of the conference hall. The only reason he went to these meetings was to advocate peace, to keep his father from attacking the nation in which Farah lived. If it weren't for his need to protect Farah he would never join his father in these talks of politics and war.

He wasn't sure what he would say when his father decided it was time to finish their discussion.

/ What can I say? 'I'm in love with the princess of India, that's why I don't want you to attack them'…Yes, that would go over well! he thought cynically. My father would never understand how I could fall for an enemy's daughter. Even if he could, he would never approve; and he would want to know how and when it happened. 'Oh, the time in which it happened is no longer remembered by anyone but me and it happened in Azad, a place she's never been to. /

"Your Highness, your son has gone completely and entirely mad" he said in mock seriousness, pretending to be a healer diagnosing the illness. As he finished the scene in his head, his mother came into the room.

"Are you talking to yourself again, son?"

"No mother, I was not" he said hastily, self-conscious that his mother had caught him.

The prince's mother was a petite yet fiery woman with dark blue eyes and chocolate colored hair.

She looked at him with a soft smile "You used to do that when you were a child, I miss when you were young. You were more entertaining then…putting on plays for me" she grinned as she reminisced about the past.

"Mother! I wish you wouldn't talk of such things!" The prince said, mortified, as mother just grinned wider. "Mother, PLEASE!"

"Oh, very well; I'll stop." She said, as her face returned to normal - from the grin that had been bordering on evil. "So how was the meeting?"

"Dull, as always." a wry smile spreading across his face. Then he became serious, "We spent half of the time talking about Azad, about the sudden death of the sultan. His son is no older than I…and now he is ruler of his country." The prince paused, thinking. "Do you think I would be ready to be king…if father died?"

"Let us hope you have no reason to find out…your father will live many years yet, I'm sure. And…you will make a great king of Persia, when the time comes." The queen reassured him.

"I hope you're right…on both accounts." He said. Silence descended as they both pondered what life would be like without their beloved king. "Well, I had better get going…I promised a friend that I would meet him in the market today."

"That's wonderful, son. You need to get out of this stuffy palace" she said "…combat practice doesn't count." She added quickly before he could protest. "I'll see you at dinner, then?"

"Yes, I'll be home in time for dinner." The prince promised as he watched his mother leave the room.

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/ I hate lying to my mother, but I couldn't tell her the truth…no, I wouldn't want her to worry about me. /

The prince _was_ going to the market, but he was not going there to meet a friend. He was going to meet a man that claimed that he knew of a jewel that could restore memories, even ones that were taken by the loss of time.

/ If that jewel truly did exist, and if I could get it, then I can help Farah remember me. I'm sure she would love me again if she could only remember. /

The prince weaved through the booths and kiosks; barely glancing at the wares the merchants had to offer. He wanted to see the man, hear what he had to say and then leave.

/ He's most likely trying to swindle me. There is probably no such thing as an object that could retrieve memory. /

Finally, the prince came upon the corner that he had agreed to meet the man on. Just as he reached it, the man stepped out of the shadows. He was wearing a dark cloak and a hood that was hiding his face.

"Do you have the information that I seek?" The prince asked.

"Must we get to the business of our meeting so soon, prince?" the man said in a heavy foreign accent.

"I promised my mother I would be home in time for dinner. I wish to keep that promise." The prince said, becoming a little impatient with the man.

"I'm sorry that you will not keep your vow to your beautiful mother." The man said with a triumphant smile.

"What?" The prince did not understand. If the man would only tell him what he had come to say, he would have plenty of time to get home before the meal was served.

Suddenly, the prince felt a sharp blow on the back of his head and the world went black.

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Do you have any questions or constructive criticism? Please comment so I can know if I should continue.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: Ok, I admit it…since I wrote the first chapter I saw parts of PoP-WW while my brother was playing it. It's very sad, No Farah. :( I may use some of the ideas from WW and maybe even TT, if I see something helpful. (My brother is playing the third one now.) I want to say right now that I own nothing. No copyright breach is intended. If I use something from any PoP game, I take no credit for it. Thoughts are between / slashes and are only the prince's thoughts unless otherwise specified.

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Light…that was all the prince saw as he awoke. His head was still throbbing from the blow that had left him unconscious.

/Ug, who would draw open my curtains so early in the morning…and what happened last night that gave me such a headache/

There was a sudden lurch that caused the confused young man to be roughly tossed about in the small box-like carriage that he found himself in. Then the prince remembered what had happened. He had been ambushed in the alley…he had gone to the meeting prepared for one man; there had been at least two, probably more.

/Where am I/

The light that had brought the prince back from a restless slumber now was revealed to be the sun after all. It was streaming through a small tare in the fabric that was above him. As the Persian heir looked around he saw that the covered wagon that he now rode in was barred so that he could not escape. He rose up to peer through the tare, in an effort to see if he could recognize their location.

/What! These are more men than are needed to capture one prince. Even I, fully alert, could not fight this many…This is an army. Judging by the quality of their armor, these are no petty thieves. What do they want with me? They look to be from a wealthy city, they cannot want a ransom…Can they/

So many unanswered questions filled the prince's head. He was too caught up in his thoughts to notice a soldier approaching. The young man was abruptly brought back to his surroundings when the tarp above him was violently ripped away.

"Look who's finally awake!" the older man sneered. "My, what a pretty prize you make…your highness." He said, mockingly. The soldier only chuckled at the young man, whose face conveyed extreme hatred.

"My father will pay whatever ransom you ask for." /Then, as soon as I am safely home, he will destroy your whole nation and take back the ransom with interest./ "Take me home now and save yourselves a trip." said the prince, choosing not to retaliate aloud against the older man's insult.

"Ransom? Who said anything about wanting a ransom?" The whole company cackled along with the man. "No, our lord wants something your father cannot give him."

"And I can! You are all fools! Though I am heir, I own nothing in my father's kingdom." The prince was baffled…what could they want with him that his father could not supply?

"All your questions will be answered in _time_." The older man laughed, amused with his own cleverness.

The prince's face became a mask, emotionless. "Very well then, I shall wait for time to reveal the solution."

Now the soldier was shocked, he did not expect the prince to except that answer - when he himself did not know the full meaning of it. "Alright, good…right, ok." He sputtered trying to regain control of his senses.

Then another man, the captain of the company, came up to the carriage to end the conversation. "Tahmores, stand down ...Do not fret, prince, we will not leave you alone in there…we will soon have another prisoner to keep you company." With that, he threw the tarp back over the cart.

"Forgive me, lord Kyran" the prince heard Tahmores say as the men moved from the coach.

The young prince waited until he could feel the coach moving again before he began to put his thoughts together.

/That soldier, Tahmores, said 'time' as if it were something more than just passing moments. Their leader might have learned that I once had control over time itself, but how could he know that. I only told Farah and the vizier is dead; who could have told them/ He now had more questions than before, and fewer answers.

/I can no longer control time, but they do not have to know that. They may choose to kill me if I have nothing to offer. No, I must bide my time until I can escape./ Then the prince remembered what Kyran had said. /Who could this second prisoner be? Can the man they intend to capture control time…or, like me, is it an ability that now eludes him/

The prince was pulled from his reflections by the rising sounds of an argument. He peered through the torn fabric of his prison and strained his ears to the sound. Distantly he heard them speak, or rather shout. They probably thought that they were far enough away from his carriage or, at the very least that the sounds of the caravan would mask what they were saying.

"You are a fool! You have revealed too much! The prince of Persia may not be as dim-witted as you seem to hope!" said a man, whose voice had not joined the mockery of the first man; thus the captive prince could not form a picture of him.

"That royal brat would not be able to find his own way out of a cart of bread! Much less could he learn our plans based on so little a word as TIME!" the man known as Tahmores bellowed.

"Both of you, be silent!" The prince could not make out what anyone said after that, he suspected that Captain Kyran was rebuking them.

/How am I going to get out of this/

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They had been traveling at a steady pace for days, hardly stopping to sleep each night. The royal captive could see the fatigue wearing on the soldiers, most of whom had to walk. He was glad that they hadn't forced him to walk, the amount of water his jail keeper supplied him would not have sustained him for such a trek.

The prince gazed though the torn fabric of his coach for what seemed like the millionth time. Every time before, he had seen nothing but desert. This time was different; he watched as they approached a small village.

The architecture was foreign to him; the language was one he barely could recognize. He was no longer in Persia. He knew that he had not been for some time, but what surprised him was where he _was_.

/What are we doing in India? I know that the soldiers that have me imprisoned are not from _here_./ He saw the jail keeper draw near and quickly jumped away from the tare.

The jail keeper lifted the tarp and placed double the normal rations inside for the prince to eat. "We won't be here long, so enjoy the extra food while you can." He said as he pulled out the plate from that morning.

"Why _are_ we here?" the prince asked, genuinely curious.

With a long suffering sigh the guard answered curtly "Because we must meet a man who has arranged for us to capture our other target. Now eat your food in silence!"

The prince just glared. He waited for the tarp to drop back before he began to eat.

The sun was already beginning to set as the prince wondered if he would meet his unwilling companion that night.

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The prince was startled out of a wakeful doze by sounds of a struggle and muffled yells. The canvas that covered his cart was thrown back and he saw that he was surrounded by guards.

Just as he was wondering what this new situation meant, the door of his cage was opened and a violently thrashing sack was tossed in with him.

"I know you're enemies, but try to make friends. You'll be stuck together for quite some time" Captain Kyran cackled.

The door was closed and locked and the cover was pulled back into place before the young man could even react. He heard footsteps moving away from the cart as he saw the second prisoner rip their way out of the sack. It was then that he realized that he _knew_ this person, loved this person.

"Farah…?"

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So what did you think? Good? Bad? Ugly?

Thanks to Kitty Krazy and Dague for reviewing my last chapter, I hope you guys liked this one too.


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